


Demons are a Human's Best Friend

by MasqueradeCryaz



Category: Digimon - All Media Types
Genre: And a good bit of character analysis, Gen, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasqueradeCryaz/pseuds/MasqueradeCryaz
Summary: You've managed to befriend all the demon lords. Even though the dark area has no sun, somehow, you still feel warm.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	1. Luxuria

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who have been keeping up with this: don’t worry that the chapter order changed. I rearranged them in the order of their purgatory levels for the ~*aesthetic*~.

Lilithmon is the Demon Lord of Lust, but that entails more than many people think. Lust isn’t just base instinct. To lust is to desire something more than reason, more than logic, more than life itself. To give everything you have in pursuit of a goal, to focus entirely on one thing with a razor sharp determination. 

It’s because of this that when you first met her, you found her...intense? She has an intimidating aura about her that’s entirely different from Lucemon’s crushing power and authority. She seems to command rooms and people by sheer force of personality, rather than power. She’s beautiful, yes, but that’s not entirely what draws people to her. 

All of the Demon Lords are dangerous, but Lilithmon feels especially so. Before you bonded with her, every conversation felt as though you were playing with fire, or standing at the edge of a cliff, staring into the abyss below. Sometimes, it still feels like that, but in a less dangerous and terrifying way. 

She takes an incredible amount of pride in her appearance, to the point where even Lucemon, the actual Demon Lord of Pride, is hard pressed to compare. You can’t help but find that a little funny. But then, you suppose, it’s old knowledge that pride leads to all other sins. 

She keeps herself immaculate. Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle on her clothes. Every accessory and garment carefully chosen to draw the eye and accent her features. She’s turned beauty into an art form, and you’ve honestly never seen anything like it. She does it as easily as breathing. 

She reminds you of a carnivorous flower. Beautiful and eye-catching, with a sweet scent. All appealing traits only a trap to entrance and lure unsuspecting people closer. 

Even though you know she’s dangerous, you can’t help but be drawn to her. You know she would never hurt you, but you find yourself entranced by her commanding presence often. You’re not sure if it’s a part of her power to do that or not, and even if it is, you don’t know if she’s doing it on purpose. She just seems to have that effect on people, you in particular. 

She is fond of dressing you in gems and other finery, but not like you’re a doll. Each touch is filled with care and tenderness, as if she’s trying to bring out the best in you. Even her golden claw, which you’ve heard can destroy anything it touches, does you no harm. The sharp points turn soft against your skin. 

You remember being almost uncomfortable the first time she did this, but when you saw the result, all your fears were assuaged. Despite being dressed in things more expensive than anything you’d previously owned, you still looked like yourself. As if she’d tried to bring forth the best, most beautiful version of yourself. It almost brought you to tears when you first saw it. You didn’t know you could look like that. 

You still remember the reactions of the other Demon Lords. Hitched breath when they noticed, and then playing it off like nothing had happened. Yet, their eyes followed you as if you were a brightly colored tropical bird. 

Once you became closer, she fixated on you. She asks for your time, your friendship, your company. She doesn’t make demands of you, but you find yourself wanting to fulfill her requests. Not because of her commanding aura, but because of how you can see she chases after you. You respect her determination and will, and value her opinion. 

Today, she’s presented you with another new accessory. It’s a necklace, featuring an animal you don’t recognize. That’s just par for the course in the digital world, as you honestly don’t recognize most of what you see here. She’s saying something about the symbolism of the animal, and how it suits you, but all the historical and cultural references go right over your head. You honestly have no idea what’s going on most of the time, but you like to hear her so passionate, so you listen attentively. 

It might actually be a digimon, but you’re not sure. Does the digital world have animals? You don’t know. You’ve spent most of your time in the dark area, which is very much devoid of life. 

She puts the jewelry around your neck, and snaps the clasp closed, her claws gently scraping at the sides of your neck as she pulls away. She eyes it, then apparently decides it suits her standards. 

“How would you like to look today? Handsome? Beautiful?...both?” She asks, staring at you in a thoughtful, considering manner. As if she’s running through ideas in her head almost as fast as she can come up with them. 

“I could make you so beautiful you’d make the angels weep, or so fierce even the demon nobility here would second guess themselves. As they should. Which would you like?”

You give her a genuine smile, which she returns, all her fangs on display yet somehow more beautiful than ever, and tell her your answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s Lily!!!


	2. Gula

Beelzemon is at your door again. He claims to be a loner, and hates associating with the other demon lords. It seems he hates associating with anyone, actually. Despite this, he keeps visiting you. You’ve begun to suspect he’s attached, and in denial. 

Far be it from you to question the motives of actual demons though, so you just don’t mention it when you open the door to let him in. He has his wings out this time, and has to fold them to get in the door. Distantly, you wonder why he sometimes has wings and sometimes doesn’t. You decide to chalk it up to “weird things about Digimon” and decide not to ask about that either. 

He hasn’t been around in awhile, but that’s not unusual so you’re not terribly concerned. His visits are irregular, and you once went a month without him visiting. Beelzemon is a wanderer, and spends almost all of his time wandering the wastes of the dark area on his bike. 

You still don’t know what to make of that bike. Apparently it’s possessed? It seemed perfectly safe, if a bit too fast for your tastes when he let you ride it. Riding a motorcycle sitting behind another person roughly twice your height was an interesting experience, to say the least. 

You remember that day very clearly. You two did nothing but drive around the dark area all day. It was strangely revealing about Beelzemon. When he fights, Beelzemon is loud and aggressive. But that day, he was quiet. You suspect that he’s actually always that way, and fights are the exception. 

The rumble and heat of the motor and the heat of the person in front of you paired together to keep you warm even with the wind roaring past you. He kept his tail curled around your waist. 

“To make sure you don’t fall off, foolish human.” He’d said. You suspect he had other motives. Specifically, you think he might be lonely. You don’t know why he holds people at a distance. Given that you know that all of these demons were kicked out of digital heaven, you’re almost afraid of the answer. You suspect it’s something appropriately heartbreaking. 

When he visits, he often brings you food. It’s something he understands. You think he’s just not terribly good with words, and wants to express his feelings in a way he thinks you’ll understand. 

Last time he was here, he left you a pomegranate. You ate the seeds and tried not to think of Greek myths. How long have you been trapped in the dark area, anyway? You’ve begun to wonder if you actually want to leave. 

He is the Demon Lord of Gluttony, and that entails far more than food. He is never satisfied, ever. He over-indulges in everything he does. He seems to crave your presence, even through his self-imposed isolation. He hangs on to your every word, and even though his responses are usually clipped and short, you can tell he pays close attention to everything you do. 

He feasts on fights, on solitude, on your very presence. The way he battles is the way of someone who sees nothing else. He focuses his entire being on it every time. He seeks out stronger and stronger opponents, and outright refuses to fight or even approach anyone who doesn’t meet his standards. For someone who is called the Demon Lord of Gluttony, he’s rather prideful. 

He is awe inspiring when he fights. You’ve only seen it a few times, and once was in your defense, although he claims otherwise. You had wandered away from him on one of your trips out into the wastelands. It was foolish of you and you still criticize yourself for it. How long have you been here, and you still thought that was a good idea? 

You’d been jumped by several Digimon, who had been appropriately demonic looking. You remember the sense of terror, of realization, of “I really shouldn’t have done this.” You remember the way Beelzemon had appeared, all wings spread, fangs and claws bared. You remember thinking he was beautiful. 

Afterwards, he yelled at you. He made excuses like “I hate Digimon who only attack the weak. It’s pathetic.” His subsequent demands you never leave his side almost immediately blew his excuses right out of the water. 

You’re drawn out of your thoughts by his voice. “Hey human. Do you have anything for me?” He sounds expectant, and is staring at you with all three of his eyes. His gaze was piercing and uncomfortable at first, but you’ve grown used to the crimson eyes. They always seem to soften when they look at you, but you know mentioning this would only bring another string of denials from him. 

You know what he’s referring to. Beelzemon likes to eat, and you can cook. It’s a simple train of logic. In addition, you can make new things he hasn’t tried. Human world food. More experiences for him to feast on. 

You give him some of the dinner you’ve prepared for yourself, and pretend not to notice the way he brightens. The way his wings fluff out just a little, the way he loses some of his ever present tension, the way his tail waves. Afterwards, he bids you goodbye. 

You look over to your table and almost choke on your own saliva. All the demons of the dark area couldn’t kill you, but this almost did. He’s left you the biggest eggplant you’ve ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🍆


	3. Avarita

Barbamon calls you often. Usually, it’s not for things that would be considered terribly important. The other demon lords dial you on occasion to warn you of dangerous digimon in the area. Their advice is helpful, but you can’t help but find it somewhat silly. All digimon in the dark area are dangerous to you. 

Barbamon often calls simply to make small talk. He asks you about your day, about how you’re feeling. If you have enough food, if you’re comfortable, if you want anything at all. You know that if you said the word, he’d show up at your door with the item in question. Likely far too much of it, in fact. You remember quite clearly the day you said you missed apples and opened your door to him later that day holding an entire tree. You still don’t know where he found it. 

He talks about his plans to obtain rare and valuable items to you, about how he’s going to own the most amazing things in the world the second he’s out of the dark area. You listen dutifully. There’s something calming about talking with someone who has so few hidden motives. Barbamon wants these things simply to have them. 

Barbamon is no hoarder, though. He displays each of his treasures proudly. They’re all carefully maintained and kept as pristine as possible. You’ve asked him about them before, and to your surprise, he remembers exactly where and when he got each one. 

A white statue of some form of bird that reminded him of heaven. A gold necklace that caught the light and flashed enough to catch his eye as he was walking by. A foggy crystal that bore an uncanny resemblance to the skies of the dark area. A ring with a stone set in it that was almost a perfect match for the color of his seal.

Barbamon wears his treasures, if they can be worn. The more important and valuable they are in his eyes, the more he wants to keep them with him. He has been, you suspect, trying to hoard you.

He treats you much the same way he does them, always trying to stay close to you. He protects you, as do all the other demon lords, but Barbamon in particular seems to look out for you. He is always a simple call away. 

He always wants to give you things. Small trinkets, things he claims aren’t that valuable to him. He says they’re old, or that he’s grown bored with them. Even with your inexperienced eye, you can tell that most of them would be worth more than everything you own. 

He is always greedy to spend time with you. He discusses his possessions with you, and tells you every detail of them in depth. He tells you of treasures he does not have, that exist in this world. Things he will have, he says. Things so magnificent that you wouldn’t believe they existed if it was anyone other than Barbamon speaking of them. 

Although Barbamon often calls you, you visit him just as often. It’s where you are now. His home is beautiful, and it reminds you that not all things in the digital world, the dark area in particular, are terrifying. It is luxurious to the extreme, which contrasts sharply with the barren wastes outside of it. You enjoy spending time there because standing amongst all those treasures, with Barbamon by your side, makes you feel valued.

He grabs your hand, and tugs at you to lead you to the next room to show you more of his valuables. Gently, so as not to hurt you with his strength. It’s less of a pull and more of a guide, as you follow eagerly. 

“This way! Let me show you what I managed to collect during my most recent battle!”

As you follow him, your attention is drawn to his hand, still clutching yours. Many digimon are much larger than humans, and this is even more apparent when your hands are side by side so you can compare them. You notice that he’s changed his outfit and jewelry again, and is wearing a bracelet set with gems that for some reason stirs a sense of familiarity within you. Usually he changes out his jewelry regularly, but as of late he’s been wearing this one consistently. Before you can contemplate it further, you’ve arrived at your destination. 

He shows you the item, speaking excitedly about how valuable it is, how long it took to track it down, each and every aspect of it that drew his attention. He recounts the battle blow by blow, and you listen attentively, enraptured. Barbamon is an excellent storyteller. 

Listening to his tale, you once again marvel at how strong these people you’ve befriended are. They can shatter the skies, shake the earth, raze cities to the ground with their might. You are perpetually in awe of them, and the fact that they’ve taken an interest in you. It makes you feel warm. 

Later, after Barbamon’s first story is done, and the many others after it, you depart and go back to your house. As you lie awake in your bed that night, you finally realize exactly what was bothering you about the bracelet Barbamon was wearing. The gems were the same color as your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🎶BA BA BA BA BA BA BA BARBARA ANN TAKE MY HAAAAAAAND🎶


	4. Acedia

Belphemon is unlike the other Demon Lords in that he never, ever comes to visit you. You have to go to him. This isn’t because he’s not just as attached to you as the others, but more that he is is disinclined to move from his spot, or do anything requiring much effort in general. It’s in his nature to be this way, and simply a part of what he is, so you don’t hold it against him. He can’t change who he is, and you wouldn’t want him to anyway. 

Time with Belphemon, as it is now, is usually spent lying next to each other. Belphemon isn’t very talkative, but he expresses himself more through his actions than his words anyway. This is rather ironic, considering he’s the Demon Lord of Sloth. 

Belphemon couldn’t look further from a demon lord as he is now. He resembles more of a child’s drawing of a demon than the actual thing. Compared to the other demon lords, his appearance was jarring to you at first. 

The others are all claws, spread wings, and bared fangs, words spoken with veiled threats and power constantly flowing out against the world, as if screaming their defiance and strength. Belphemon, on the other hand, is perpetually closed eyes, sleepy and calm words spoken in a soft voice, and an apathetic demeanor. This, paired with his frankly adorable appearance, threw you off when you first met him. Belphemon is the exact opposite of aggressive. 

This doesn’t mean that you weren’t wary of him at first. You have very clear memories of your first moments in the digital world. An adorable blob spoke to you in a child’s voice, and then spewed acid everywhere. You watched it eat through the ground in front of you, frozen with horror. The forms digimon take have nothing to do with their power, and you know this well by now. 

Because of this, you weren’t terribly surprised to learn that Belphemon instinctively kills any digimon that dares to approach him while he sleeps. You can only assume you were spared the first time you saw him by virtue of being the least threatening being in the dark area. To put it simply, Belphemon wasn’t willing to expend the energy. 

When you first approached him, you knew he was sleeping and greeted him in a soft voice. You continued to speak softly throughout the entire conversation with him, and left when he demanded peace and quiet to rest in. Perhaps, given your terrifying time in the digital world at that point, you emphasized with that desire. 

Regardless, you found yourself approaching him from time to time since then, and a bond grew between you. He is an island of peace in what seems to be a world gone mad and taken to extremes. He doesn’t demand things from you. Not words, not actions, not obedience. It’s nice. 

You have only seen him emotional once. It was when you were spending time with him one day. It was just like in any other day, you basking in his calm aura as you curled into his fur. You knew he had consistent problems with other digimon trying to take his power for themselves, but you didn’t expect any to actually get close enough to attack him before dying. You certainly didn’t expect them to go after you. 

You remember the ringing of an alarm. A sound that seemed to pierce through your very mind, shattering any sense of calm you had left after the digimon attacked. It was an indescribable noise, and to call it an alarm doesn’t do it any sense of justice. It was like calling a mountain a rock. While technically correct, it completely fails to capture the scope of it. 

You remember Belphemon opening his eyes. You remember a sense of blind, animal rage, completely unlike Daemon’s targeted wrath. You remember the chains shattering under unimaginable strength, the sound of the roar he made, which somehow eclipsed the cry of the alarm. You remember how the sound threw you back a good few meters, and the choked cry you made. You remember Belphemon turning from the dissolving bodies of the other digimon to give you a look of pure horror and regret. 

Afterwards, Belphemon knelt next to you, all wings folded close to his body and ears pressed against his head, clawed hands larger than your entire body looming over you, as if he wanted to touch but was afraid to. You sincerely hope you never see him make such an expression again. You don’t know if your heart could take it. 

It took ages to get him to calm down and accept that you knew it was an accident and that he was forgiven, that you were still his friend. The Demon Lords all have terrifying and frankly awe-inspiring amounts of power, and the digital world, the dark area in particular, is dangerous. You knew you would be hurt eventually. He seemed even more distressed when you told him this, and curled around you protectively until he finally relaxed and reverted to his more subdued form. 

You come visit him on a regular basis these days. He is your friend, and lying near him, touching his soft fur is a sorely needed moment of serenity in the dark area. His presence is like floating in a vast ocean, peaceful and quiet. He is apathetic, but not uncaring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sneepy friend!!!


	5. Ira

Being thrown out of heaven would cause anyone to have bad feelings. You can count the times the Demon Lords have mentioned it on one hand. They have never spoken about the event to you, or, you suspect, anyone. To go from shining spires and eternal warmth to the endless night and barren wastes of the dark area is likely an experience they don’t want to remember. Despite this, there’s one exception. 

Daemon seems to hold his memories of the time before close, as if they were a fire to keep him warm in the chill of the dark area. He is the one that brings it up the most. He seems to gain all his drive from it, to an almost obsessive degree. Lucemon wants to rule the world because he thinks it was meant to be that way. Daemon wants to control it because it would be one final act of defiance in the face of his fall. 

The other demon lords seem to be solitary beings. Sleeping at the bottom of the ocean, wandering the wastes with no place to call home, isolating themselves from all beings and attacking any who dare approach. 

Daemon draws other digimon to him, like moths to a flame. Those who have fallen, those who feel they were wronged, those who want to lash out against the world, if only to make a point. Those he calls subordinates seem to burn with an inner fire at all times, as if any apology would never abate their pain. As if it would only pour oil on the inferno. 

Daemon outshines them all. He burns with rage as if he is still falling, still cloaked in embers and ash and pain and rage. He wants the world not because he desires to rule it, but to make himself what he feels he deserves to be. Being near him is like standing next to a furnace. 

Despite his rage, he has never attacked you. You suspect you know why. You have never made any attempt to hurt him, not that you would have succeeded if you tried. You have never insulted his pain or implied that he deserved to fall. You listen to him, and he seems to value that. 

From time to time, you catch him flexing his wings, as if he is trying to move feathers he no longer has out of reflex. You only recognize the motion because you’ve seen Lucemon and Beelzemon do it. It hurts your heart to see. You wonder, sometimes, if the crime of rebellion can justify the level of suffering you’ve seen in the dark area. You’ve begun to have doubts.

Daemon, contrary to his title of Demon Lord of Wrath, actually rarely lashes out at anyone or raises his voice in general. Everything about him is calculating. He has an inner fire nothing can extinguish, but there is only one thing he wishes to burn down. 

Being around him was terrifying at first, because it was easy to tell exactly how much of his emotions he was holding back. As time went on though, you realized he had no intention to direct that heat at you. Now, his presence brings you a sense of clarity. It reminds you that it’s okay to be angry, to be enraged at being wronged by others. That you don’t have to just roll over because others are stronger than you and trying to dictate your life. That defiance, even if it doesn’t succeed, has value. 

Sometimes, you think you come uncomfortably close to understanding how he feels. When you think of how long you’ve been trapped here, when you wonder if you’ll ever see the sun again, when you think of what your house looked like before this. At times like those, you can feel yourself burn.

As you approach the door to his home, you shake yourself out of your thoughts. You clutch the gift you brought, a jar of sake closer, and the digimon guarding the door let you in wordlessly. They’re used to your visits by now, and you suspect Daemon has explicitly ordered them to always let you in. 

Daemon’s fondness for alcohol amused you at first, but it was strangely comforting as well. The idea that even so far from your world, demons could have the same vices as humans made you feel relieved. A sense of familiarity is always welcome to you. He’s particularly fond of sake, for some reason. 

The familiar sense of heat greets you as you enter his room. The weight of his power is warm in a way that the power of the other Demon Lords isn’t. In addition, he himself emits heat. It’s easy to get comfortable in his presence these days. 

He accepts your gift with a fanged grin, and you settle in next to him. He speaks of his plans, of his subordinates, of how surely the time is almost right. He promises to take you with him when he finally breaks free of the dark area, and claims his rightful place. Hearing these promises reminds you of why you haven’t given up that last spark of hope. 

Eventually, your conversation trails off, and he stares at you in a contemplative way. There’s something oddly wistful in his glance. You curl yourself tighter into his side, clutching at his warm fur. He begins to speak. 

“Have you ever wondered what heaven is like?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a flamey boi!!!
> 
> According to the data books, Daemon’s favorite food is sake. Neat, huh?


	6. Invidia

Leviamon’s demeanor and appearance are strikingly different from the other Demon Lords. The others look like, well, demons. Leviamon looks like something that came out of the primordial sea. 

Out of all of them, you found him the most terrifying in the beginning. Each one of his countless fangs is bigger than your entire body, this isn’t even mentioning he himself. He truly lives up to the name “leviathan”. 

He seems to burn with a ceaseless hunger and anger at the entire world, as if he’s bitter about everyone and everything in it. The way he flashes his fangs and whips his tails when he talks about anyone other than you speaks just as much as his words when he’s upset. 

Although he was frightening at first, you’ve grown to like his presence. It helps, truly, that he’s beautiful. His scales shine like rubies, and the way they look with the water sliding off them..you don’t think you’ve ever seen any gem in Barbamon’s collection match them. You’ll never forget his expression when you told him that, either. 

He seemed both shocked and disbelieving, as if he had never looked at himself that way before. That expression only made you more determined. You will keep telling him he’s beautiful until he believes it. It’s the truth, after all. 

You hadn’t known there was water in the dark area before you met him, but he always dwells in the dark depths, sleeping until you arrive. When he senses your presence, he rises to the surface. He lets you climb him, touch his claws, ride on his back. 

It’s where you are now, as he makes a slow, serpentine path through the water. Leviamon is an incredibly graceful being, despite his size. You don’t think he believed you when you told him that, either. 

Leviamon’s scales are smooth and cool to the touch, and it’s soothing to spend time with him. He’s almost never in a hurry, and you’ve never seen him afraid. You don’t even fear falling off of him and into the water; you know he would come get you without hesitation. 

You know that he hates when people are stronger than him. This was a startling fact to learn, as you can barely comprehend the existence of something that could make him afraid. The only digimon you’ve met, in all your time here, that could even have the potential to do that is Lucemon. But Leviamon doesn’t seem to hate Lucemon particularly more than other people. 

Despite his immense size and power, and, you think to yourself, his grace and beauty, he seems to feel threatened easily. You wouldn’t say he’s easily scared. It’s more that he perceives the entire world as a threat to himself, and acts accordingly. 

You wonder what could have caused him to act this way. You wonder if you actually want to know. Given what you know and what you’ve guessed of the past of the other Demon Lords, and the way Daemon talks about heaven, you suspect that it would be a horrible tale to hear. 

Leviamon, is, as his title of Demon Lord of Envy suggests, envious. You’ve seen him bitter about everything from the way Lilithmon looked that day, to the respect the angels still in heaven command, to the pleasant weather outside the dark area. Everytime, you try to assuage his doubts. You know it’s in his nature to be envious, but the way he treats himself hurts to see. In your opinion, he is every bit as beautiful as Lilithmon, and every bit as worthy of respect as the highest beings in the heavens. 

Everytime he speaks, it feels like the world stops to listen. Not just because of his size, but because something about him commands authority. His voice is one of the most beautiful things about him, you think. You could listen to him for hours, and you have before. His size means everytime he speaks, you can feel it in your chest, in your bones. You’ve grown used to the feeling, and find it pleasant now. 

The low vibration of his voice, the slow, meandering movements as he swims, the way his ruby scales reflect off the water. All of this combines to make him seem almost ethereal in your eyes. Lilithmon is beautiful in the way that people are. Leviamon is beautiful in the way that a crashing wave is, the way that the silence between lightning strikes is, the way that a tornado on the horizon is. He is less a digimon and more of a force of nature. 

Sitting here, on his back in the blackness and solitude of the dark area, as he moves through the dark area and speaks to you in that low, rumbling voice, makes you think of fairytales you read when you were a child. Of dragons in caves, of civilizations in the depths of the ocean, of mythical beings hidden deep in the woods if you only dared to look. Being around him creates the same feeling of awe those stories inspired in you. 

You know he doesn’t want you to leave the dark area. This is the one thing, you’re certain, that makes him afraid. He’s terrified that the world is going to take you from him. Deep down, you wonder if you actually want to leave this place, and the people you’ve met, far behind you, to become nothing but a memory. You have your doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT’S FLAT FUCK FRIDAY 🐊


	7. Superbia

You shift slightly, and feel claws dig into your sides as Lucemon pauses his monologue. Not enough to hurt, but a slight pressure to remind you they’re there. To keep you secure. For the Demon Lord of Pride, Lucemon is ...clingy? No, possessive is the right word. 

You’re seated in his lap, staring out through the windows that overlook the dark area. You can see almost all of it from here. You fidget, trying to get into a more comfortable position, and his grip tightens, as his wings curl inward around you. 

Lucemon himself is on his throne, and he was incredibly insistent about this for some reason. You’ve learned not to question his motives too much. If you had to guess, you’d say he wanted to show off to you. 

“Hold still. Don’t avert your eyes. This is my domain, my kingdom.”

He takes pride in many things. He’s made the dark area his home, as he often informs you. He is proud of his strength, of his resilience, of his breaking free of his seal, of his kingdom, of everything from the color of his eyes to the stretch of his wings. You cannot say it is completely unearned.

He is, without a doubt, the strongest being you have ever met. Even now, you can feel his power bearing down on you. When you first met him, it felt as though you were drowning. Now, it’s more of a heavy embrace. It’s comforting, you think to yourself. 

Lucemon embodies both light and dark, and that’s familiar in an oddly human way. A wicked heart with noble thoughts, a pure motive paired with evil actions. These things are a strange comfort, far from home as you are. 

At first, his appearance seemed odd to you. A mix of fur and feathers, contradictory natures, and hard to decipher motives. When he intended good, he went about it in questionable ways. When he intended evil, he rarely acted overtly malicious. You wouldn’t say you’ve gotten used to his demeanor, but you know that he has no intention to harm you, and so you stay still obediently and relax back into him. 

He’s always pushing you, prodding you, testing you, it seems. You don’t know what he’s looking for. It doesn’t seem that he’s looking for any specific outcome. He just seems to want to know everything about you. To make you more than what you are, to inspire growth. He makes you unsure of yourself and things you thought you were certain of. For some reason, you don’t feel as though that’s a bad thing. 

This isn’t the first time he’s done this, either. He seems to want to “show you his kingdom” often. You’ve begun to suspect it’s just a reason to be close to you, and he’s making an excuse his pride will allow. At times like these you swear you can hear him making a soft rumbling noise that sounds uncannily like purring. You don’t call him out on it. You don’t think you’re ready for the subsequent conversation. You don’t think you ever will be. 

It’s rather nice, actually. His wings, all of them, are soft. The contrasting textures of feathers and fur are equally pleasant in different ways, and the size difference means he can easily envelope you. Also, he’s warm, and the noise he would insist is definitely not purring is pleasant. 

At times like these, he whispers promises to you. At times, they can be disturbing. Once, he mentioned he’d like to see you rule the world of humans. It would be only fitting, he said. You didn’t know where to begin with that, so you didn’t really respond. 

However, other promises and words he’s said are much more pleasant. A place by his side as king of the dark area, an eternity as his companion, a place to always call home. He compliments you with a sincerity you’ve never heard before. He honestly believes that you’re everything he tells you. Beautiful, magnificent, kind, unique, his most precious treasure. He believes all of these words so wholeheartedly you can’t help but be enthralled when he says them. 

On the other hand, when you praise him back. For somebody so prideful, you’d think he’d never been complimented before. You tell him he’s beautiful, that he’s the strongest, that his presence comforts you, that you feel like he inspires you to grow. The expression on his face wasn’t one you’ll ever forget. You thought that, given the way he acts, he’d know all of this already. But he looked at you like you hung the moon and stars, and made the definitely not a purr sound. It’s what led you here, sitting on his throne together today. He hasn’t stopped making that noise except to speak to you since the two of you sat down. It’s as heartwarming as it is ridiculous. 

The dark area was terrifying when you first arrived. It’s a lightless expanse filled with literal demons. Somehow, you’ve gained the interest of some of the strongest. 

Even though you miss your world, the way these demons look at you...you’ve never been looked at like that before. Like you mean everything to them. It fills you with pride. 

You’ve been here awhile, listening to Lucemon’s voice. And that sound that’s definitely not a purr. Both are soothing, and you’re tired. Keeping a coherent sleep schedule in a place without a sun is difficult to say the least, and for all you know it’s actually 3 AM. 

You give up and relax completely, turning yourself to curl into Lucemon. He pauses his speech about how interesting humans are. It’s always strange to hear him go on about humans, but you’re used to it at this point. 

“Oh? Brave, aren’t you? To find comfort in me?”  
You don’t bother responding, and snuggle deeper into him. He sighs, and folds his wings around you and tightens his grip, sealing you in darkness. As you slip away, you hear him speak.

“Very well. Take refuge in pride. I will never allow anything to harm what is mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know when a cat falls asleep on you and you can’t move for hours? That’s Lucemon rn.  
> Also, Microsoft Words is for cowards so I typed this all up in gmail drafts lmao


End file.
